History will tell tales of this man. A husband in grey trousers, with no name, who sought the answer to a question few have dared to ask.

Why are we going to IKEA… again?

He boldly looked for logic in a place where there is none.

But braver still, this simple soul chose to document every step of his #journey through the winding, light-filled labyrinth and share it via Imgur, thereby selflessly risking his marriage for the sake of our amusement.

For this we are forever in his debt.

Is your relationship suffering after an IKEA trip? Our Love, Life advice podcast could get you back on track. (Post continues after podcast.)

Our hero’s quest started with the fundamental question… Why?

"We are here. Our apartment is furnished. I am not sure why we are returning."

Meet Mireille

Eligible

Should You Talk About Salary At Work?

Overshare

What Provokes Your Inner Pufferfish?

Mamamia Out Loud

ADVERTISEMENT

"We appear to be here, in part, for lunch."

"I have dropped fruity purple sauce on my pants. As is tradition. It will likely stain. On Facebook, my aunt advises pouring boiling water over the spot. She further advises removing the pants before doing so."

And then it began...

ADVERTISEMENT

"Perhaps we are here for institutional storage solutions. My wife says, "Maybe when we have eight kids." We have zero kids. We move on."

"We are looking at candles. We have many candles. We bought our current candles at IKEA. These are slightly different."

It's almost as if he's never done this before.

ADVERTISEMENT

"She has asked for my thoughts on this storage solution. I said, "We don't have room for it." This was apparently an incorrect response."

"We seem to be here for a mirror. I begin to recall a conversation where she expressed this need."

ADVERTISEMENT

"This is not a mirror. Our ultimate purpose remains as mysterious as the little dots over the vowels in the item labels.

"There may not be any answers down here, but there are rats."

"My wife is charmed by the stuffed rats. This does not alarm or surprise me, although I am surprised that the rats feature so prominently in the display. It is a strange marketing choice."

ADVERTISEMENT

"More rats. I begin to speculate they are somehow significant in Swedish culture.

"And superior utensils."

"She has commented on how sturdy these spoons are. Our other measuring spoons do not strike me as structurally unsound."

ADVERTISEMENT

"*This* is where you get napkins," she asserts. I have to agree that, on evidence, she is right.

"Ready?" she asks. I say yes, but I'm not sure what she is referring to.

"This would be really pretty," says my wife. I express hesitance to hang a picture of a random woman on my wall. She was talking about the picture frame. I am on thin ice.

ADVERTISEMENT

"We live in a basement. I fear for the lives of any plants we procure."

And yet more questions, but alas...

"What is this, even?" my wife asks. The label holds no answers.

ADVERTISEMENT

"My wife says these remind her of baobab trees. I patiently remind her that baobabs are hundreds of feet tall. She will detach a retina if she keeps rolling her eyes like that."

A wrong turn, a potentially fatal mistake.

"I've been busted."

But then, hope.

ADVERTISEMENT

"We are checking out. We have a microwave cover, a sugar bowl, and a drawer divider. We do not have a mirror. "I want ice cream," says my wife."

And so they emerge, blinking, into to light.

"I love you forever, even though I already have to," says my wife. I love her, too.

And not one of their purchases needs assembly. Like we said, history has been made.